j e a l o u s y
by nottheonlyfanaround
Summary: In which Ron gets jealous


**For Holly who did a wonderful job meeting her goals in round 10 of The Houses Competition!**

* * *

When Hermione got home, it was not at all how she'd expected it to be. She'd expected Ron to greet her, a warm smile on his face, placing a kiss on her forehead and walking into the living room to watch some television. It's what they always did when Hermione got home. Sometimes they'd talk about what to make for dinner, or they'd just go out to eat. It was brilliantly simple and warm. The atmosphere when she got in that day, however, was anything _but_ warm.

Ron was sat on the couch, already watching the television, a gloomy look on his face. His eyebrows were furrowed, lips pressed into a thin line. She wasn't even sure he'd heard her enter the house. So she slipped her boots off, hung her coat on the rack right next to her scarf, and moved towards the couch. She tiptoed towards him, wondering if he'd not heard her, and if she'd be able to scare him. Her hands leapt onto his shoulders, and she gave a small shout. No response.

A frown tugged the corners of her lips downward, her eyebrows furrowing slightly as she moved to the opposite side of the couch. She smoothed down her skirt before plopping onto the couch next to him, she tried to ignore how he moved away when she tried to lean on him. _He just had a bad day today,_ she tried telling herself. They watched the television in silence, anxiety taking it's hold of Hermione's chest despite her best efforts to push it down.

Halfway through some odd muggle program Ron got up out of his seat, letting out an annoyed sigh and beginning to walk down the hall. Hermione's brows furrowed even further, a little bit of anger bubbling up in her.

"What about dinner?" came her pleading voice - as if she was begging him to pay attention to her, to tell her what was the matter. He'd turned around to face her, eyes cold, dark circles underneath them. His lips were pressed into a thin line and his reply was dull and lacking. Unusually different from the person she'd come to know.

"I already ate," and with that he turned away, moving to his bedroom and slamming the door shut. She tried not to cringe at the sound, turning the muggle show off with a sigh and moving towards the apartment's tiny kitchen. She looked through the fridge, deciding on soup, before heating it up in a small mug. As she ate she thought over how odd Ron was acting, surely it wasn't because of - but what if it was - no, the news shouldn't have aired yet. Despite that, she couldn't help but let anxiety and a slight bit of panic creep over her.

Hopefully, she thought to herself as she got ready for bed, it would all be better in the morning. Yet, Hermione still couldn't fall asleep, rolling over restlessly for another hour. She let out another sigh, something she'd done more than usual that day, rubbing her eyes with a groan. Perhaps, she figured as she rested her head back onto the pillow, that the bed felt emptier without Ron there beside her. Her eyes closed slowly, and she drifted off to sleep, hoping and praying that this would all be better the next morning.

It wasn't. He ignored her all morning, not even acknowledging Hermione when she placed his breakfast next to him with a forced smile. Nor when she asked if he wanted to go to the movies later, or the park, or to the Burrow to see his family. She felt anxious, more so than the night before, and so she decided to get some fresh air. Her boots stood by the door, and she slipped them on, throwing her scarf around her neck and taking her set of keys.

It was only after he heard her checking if she'd gotten everything that he finally said something. What it was she couldn't understand, too low to hear what words were said, but loud enough for her to tell the tone. It was mocking, grumpy, and mainly angry. She couldn't help but feel offended, anger rising in her despite her best efforts to push it back down.

" _What_ is going on with you?" came her extremely annoyed voice, her tone showing how fed up and completely over this she was. He'd turned around to face her then, looking her in the eyes with something akin to victory in his own.

"That depends on what's going on with you and McLaggen," Hermione's face paled at his words. So it was about that.

"Nothing is going on with McLaggen and I," she said, calm now, trying to get the last bit of anger out of her system. It only fired back up at the scoff Ron let out.

"Then why were you with him at the gala?"

"He asked me to go as his plus one, as a _friend_ ," she was getting angrier by the second. Because how could he question her loyalty like this, question her commitment to their relationship in such an awful way?

"Of course it was just _as friends_ ," his voice was accusatory, implications dripping off of his every word.

"And what's that supposed to mean?" came her angry voice, despite her best attempts at avoiding the anger, it was still ever so present.

"You and McLaggen used to be a thing!" exclaimed the redhead, his face now a shade of crimson that put his hair to shame.

"We went out once!"

"You were together at a party!"

"It was to make you jealous!" Ron's face dropped, but Hermione couldn't bear to stand there anymore. The house was too warm, too closed off, she needed some air. She walked out of the door, ignoring Ron's pleading shouts from behind her. Her curls bounced behind her as she quickly walked away, exiting their apartment complex and moving into the bustle of the city streets. She couldn't deal with him like this, in a jealous fit. It reminded her of fourth year with the Yule Ball. She _hated_ it. The angry feeling in her chest wouldn't let go of her, and she sighed, moving towards the pub she'd come to know all too well. She needed space, air, time to herself. But more than anything...

 _ **She needed a drink.**_


End file.
